


what the hell were you thinking?

by bacchusofficial



Series: prompts from the blue place [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: (uhh don't worry about that last one), Choking, Explosions, Friends in space, M/M, Space Walks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 13:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14165484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bacchusofficial/pseuds/bacchusofficial
Summary: The EVA had absolutely no business going south like it had. Logically, Jacobi should’ve been able to make it to SI-5’s ship with plenty of room between him and the explosion.But, obviously, space didn’t work like that.





	what the hell were you thinking?

**Author's Note:**

> this is from a tumblr prompt from the wonderful imperial-evolution from [this list](http://bacchusofficial.tumblr.com/post/169821197150/angstfluff-prompt-list). i wrote it almost immediately after watching the martian. (can you tell?).

The first time Jacobi completed an EVA on his own was an accident.

He’d put the suit on before, of course—hundreds of times in training, alone—and he’d tagged along with others (attached at the hip, literally, with a glorified bungee chord), so it wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing. In fact, the EVA had absolutely no business going south like it had. Logically, he should’ve been able to make it to SI-5’s ship with plenty of room between him and the explosion.

But, obviously, space didn’t work like that.

So there Jacobi was, taking an early detour out the airlock. It was a long story, one that began with a speedy, haphazard suit-up, climaxed with a big, cool explosion on a spaceship just a  _little_  too close for comfort, and ended with Jacobi using the pressurized air flying out a puncture in the hand of his suit to drift over to their own ship’s airlock.

He (very calmly, he liked to think, for someone in his position) stated his authorization code to the door, ignored the blare of alarms in his EVA suit as he drifted inside, ordered the door shut, waited for the red lights to turn green and the cheerful voice of the AI to tell him it was all clear.

As soon as it did, he fumbled for the latch on his helmet and wrestled it off his head, letting it float off while he drew in gasping breaths, wrestling with the EVA suit, wincing all over because there was one (1) thing worse than getting caught in an explosion, and that was getting caught in an explosion in outer—

The inner airlock burst open and voices flooded inside, shouts that did nothing to soothe the ringing in Jacobi’s ears.

“Jesus  _Christ_ , Jacobi, are you alright?”

Jacobi would never, ever be able to thank the universe enough for letting it be Maxwell who got to him first, even if she was ruthless in tearing off the rest of his EVA suit and pinching him all over for broken bones.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jacobi coughed, then winced, batted her hands. “Ouch! Hey, come on, I’m fine—”

“The station blew up—”

“Yeah, uh, that was why I was over there—”

She grabbed him roughly by the chin and turned his head side to side, taking in the scrapes, the bruise on his temple. “We thought you were inside,” she said, flat.

Oh.

“I, um,” said Jacobi. “Last minute change of plans.”

“ _And you didn’t think to tell us, asshole_?”

“I was in  _their_  suit, I couldn’t comms you guys without warning them about the—”

“ _Dr_.  _Maxwell_.”

Jacobi froze, closed his eyes, whispered, with feeling, “Fuck.”

When he opened his eyes, Maxwell had turned to face Kepler, who floated in the inner airlock doorway with an expression that made Jacobi want to head back out the outer airlock, spacesuit optional.

“Is he broken?” Kepler asked Maxwell, clipped, efficient.

“No, sir.”

“Hurt?”

“Just some bruises.”

“Hm,” said Kepler. “In that case.”

It should be impossible for someone to move that fast on a spaceship, but “impossible” had never stopped Kepler before. He shoved Maxwell out of the way, fisted a hand in Jacobi’s hair, slammed him against the wall of the airlock, and tightened his other hand around Jacobi’s throat before the other two could so much as blink.

“ _What the hell were you thinking?”_  Kepler shouted, and oh, good, they’d skipped right to the shouting—that meant Jacobi was  _really_  in trouble.

Jacobi’s hands automatically flew to the wrist of the hand choking him. He wasn’t strong enough to pry it off, but he could (probably) stop Kepler from killing him.

“I was—just—”

The hand tightened, and Jacobi shut up.

“Do you have any idea what you could have done?” Kepler demanded. “Let me spell it out for you, since obviously something in your head has been recently been knocked loose by, oh, I don’t know,  _the explosion that just went off a hundred yards away_. Although,” he mused, switching moods on a dime, deadly glint never leaving his eyes. “A good case could also be made that something was already loose before that, seeing as you decided it would be a good idea to throw carefully laid plans to the wind in favor of this little  _stunt_.” On the last word, the hand  _squeezed_ , and Jacobi gasped for air, writhed against the wall.

“You could have killed the mission,” said Kepler, perfectly reasonable, perfectly matter-of-fact. “And you could have killed your _self_. Now give me one good reason  _I_  shouldn’t kill  _you_.”

Jacobi’s eyes searched for Maxwell. She was floating a safe distance behind Kepler, eyes wide, a little shaky, but when Jacobi raised his eyebrows—their personal language for  _little help here?_ —she raised her hands,  _don’t look at me! he’ll be done soon._

“Sir—” Jacobi managed, struggling to drag Kepler’s hand away. “I can't—”

By some miracle, the hand around his throat loosened until it was just resting, just a warm weight reminding him who was in charge (though the hand in Jacobi’s hair was more than enough to do that; Kepler twisted his grip and sent tears to Jacobi’s eyes).

“ _Well?_ ” prompted Kepler.

Jacobi explained, as patiently as possible, what had gone wrong; how someone had found the bomb, and Jacobi wouldn’t have had time to get back to the ship before detonating without failing the mission. So: space suit, safe enough distance not to die, kaboom.

“All in all, I think it worked pretty well, because none of us have died yet and technically the mission is com…plete…Colonel?”

The hand on Jacobi’s throat had drifted up to rest on his cheek, Kepler’s thumb swiping at blood on his cheekbone. His eyes were soft, for once more gray than iron, but it could’ve been a trick of the light.

“If you ever do something like this again,” murmured Kepler. The hand in Jacobi’s hair became more of a caress than a threat, carefully smoothing the curls into place. His lips moved to brush Jacobi’s cheek, to let his next words melt into Jacobi’s skin. “I will destroy you. Understood?”

How could Jacobi say no to something like that?

“Understood, sir,” he said, vision swimming.

And just like that, Kepler backed off, was already halfway out the inner airlock door, leaving Jacobi shivering and sore.

“Don’t scare us like that again, Mr. Jacobi,” he called over his shoulder, perfectly business-like, and disappeared.

Jacobi felt his limbs to make sure they were all still there, and became hyperaware of Maxwell’s eyes on him.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head. “You two are so fucked up.”

“Hey, you’re one to talk.”

She raised her eyebrows. He deflated.

“You’re right,” he admitted, shrugging. She was always right. She tilted her head at him, looked like she was about to say something—something he wouldn’t like. But then she sighed.

“He was right, though,” she told him. “If you ever pull some shit like that again, know that you’ll have  _both_  of us to answer to.”

He cracked a smile; somehow, her threat made him feel better, where Kepler’s had set him on fire. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Maxwell floated over to poke him in the chest. “See that you do, dummy. Now come on, let’s get out of this place.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for kudos, comments, bookmarks, and for reading. you rock! PS if you wanna send in a prompt or just chat, hit me up on tumblr @bacchusofficial for all your space gay needs.


End file.
